FT 

MEPDE 


Spirit anh Subjects of Stubu. 

' AN ADDRESS, 

4LB 
1010 
Copy 1 

uii^juIVERED BEFORE THE SIGMA PI SOCIETY, 


OF ILLINOIS COLLEGE, 


At its Anniversary, Jnly 12, 1848, 

I 


By Rev. L. iGrrosvenor, 




ST. LOUIS: 

BIIKWSTER & CASAMAYOU, 
1848, 


/o/o 


ri:LiNois CbntEGE, July 13, 1848. 

REV. L.' GROSVE^OR. 

Sir: — la behalf of the Sigma Pi Society of Illinois College, we are authorized' 
to request the Address delivered before them last evening, for publication. 

You will allow us to express the sincere thanks of the Society, for the honor conferred 
upon thun by its delivery. You will please accept an assurance of the high regard of 
the Committee. ’ ; 

Your obedient servants, 

P J • W. C. GOUDY, ) 

' W. H. COLLINS, V Committee.. 

W. H. HOLLAND, ) 





THE SPIRIT AND SUBJECTS OF STUDY. 

In complying 'with your request to address you on this occasion, 
I do not aim at a subject never before thouglit of by ordinary mor- 
tals, or even by those undaunted spirits that are wont to disport 
themselves in some hitlierto undiscovered cavern of the “ vasty 
deep.” I intend simply to discuss some practicable principles whicli 
I would hope may be of some use to the young scholar. 

It is to some observations on the spirit with which you should 
read and study, and the subjects which will be profitable, that I in- 
tend to direct your thoughts. 

The object of all education is to teach men to think, reason, inves- 
tigate, observe for themselves. And yet how many more parrots and 
niDcking birds are produced in our schools than thinkers and men ! 
The object of many teachers seems to be only to impress on the 
minds of the scholars the arbitrary dicta of grammarians, and to 
crowd into their memories as many lumps of the raw material of 
knowledge as they can possibly hold. Tlie endeavor seems to be 
what the effect really is — to make their crania store cribs of dac- 
tyles and spondees, or, at best, of literary and theological dogmas. 

Speaking from my own experience and observation, I know 
that much of the time passed in the schools is lost time — partly, 
doubtless, from want of application on the part of scholar-^; but 
more, I believe, because tliey do not very soon see any practical 
benefit to be derived from application to such studies as are given 
them. Why should the student care about cramming himself with 
a whole library of grammars and lexicons which he cannot love, un- 
less he is first taught to use those books as the absolutely necessary 


4 


ADDRESS. 


means to the attainment of some useful end? Text books are stu- 
died too often, not as a means, but as an effect. The sole object is 
to get on with as much economy of labor and thought as can well 
consist with a tolerable get off in the recitation room. Now, this 
pointless mode of study, this long and tiresome chase after some- 
thing he knows not what, gives a youth no powers of analysis, com- 
parison or thought, no independence of mind, no knowledge, in 
short, which is essential to success in the business of life. And yet 
the mere drudging hook-worm is generally called by the honorable 
name of scholar — a term expressive of something very different 
from what he is or will be. The true scholar is one who is tho- 
roughly furnished for all good works, and he becomes so not simply 
by grubbing Greek roots by the light of the midnight oil or pine 
knot, but by reading much, and thinking upon what he reads, by 
systematic study of whatever he undertakes — study with an object 
— and by original investigation, untrammelled by books or teachers. 

Nothing is more necessary to the best success of the youthful stu- 
dent than an independent spirit. True learning is not simply to 
know what Plato or Locke, Calvin or Arminius, Edwards or Chubb, 
has said upon a subject, but to have an opinion of one’s own as to 
which of them has spoken the truth. It is the ability to tell not 
only what is true, but to give a reason why it is true. Without in- 
dependence, a man can never discover what is his own mind, if, in- 
deed, he have a mind of his own. The mind, more than the bird, 
cannot take wing without breaking its shell. No one who suffers 
himself to be smothered under the eternal incubation of others, 
can ever soar. Men must speak and act and think as living beings, 
having authority to do these things,. It is the fear of darting out of 
the old turnpike road, that has chained so many down to a groveling 
mediocrity. Who can tell how many a gem of genius has been bu- 
ried in the dark, unfathomed mines’^ of dulness, merely from a 
slavish fear and unmanly dependence on the wisdom or folly of 
others? Such men, like the blind, must keep the beaten path, 
striking the staff on each side, and, like them, they go through the 
world, seeing nothing new and creeping in privacy and with snail’s 
pace along the road of knowledge — ^for no one will act upon what 


ADDRESS. 


5 


aiiotlier tells him is truth, unless it is made truth to him by his own 
convictions. That which appears false, or indifferent to an indivi-^ 
dual, is false to him to all intents and purposes, for he will not ^ict 
upon it. But a man will act upon what he really believes to be true, 
and even though it be false, he may do some good in the world, not, 
indeed, by his falsities, but by the energies of a believing, earriest 
spirit, bringing out some truth, which otherwise being cramped by 
dulness, unbelief or fear, might be hidden in a napkin. He who, 
by asserting even bold untruths, awakens dormant minds to new 
exertions in behalf of the truth, does more good than he who only 
rocks the world to sleep by a lullaby of stagnant common-places. 

But the most difficult thing in the world is to make educated men 
study, think and speak for themselves. You can find men “ as plenty 
as blackberries” who know nothing, who are ready to volunteer 
very original opinions upon every subject — but a good education is 
apt to make men ultra-conservative. Tliey will not think upon 
compulsion any more than Falstaff would give reasons — and their 
disinclination is not to be ascribed so much to indolence as to a 
praiseworthy feeling of reverence for those who are older, wiser or 
better. We are so dependent on others, that we cannot make up 
our minds till our elders have spoken or written. Men will oft^ 
endure great evils, rather than venture to run counter to some ab- 
surd notion or custom. A sufficient answer to everything supposed 
to be at all new is — it would be innovation. But how often must 
we be told that little good was ever accomplished without innova- 
tion? Even ultraism is productive of good, directly or indirectly. 
An ultraist is an earnest, independent man, and the life of such a 
man cannot be useless. 

On an occasion like this, where the friends of literature meet to- 
gether to seek a spot of sunshine and verdure, far from the dust and 
storms and passions of life — gaiidia offuscata nullis litihus — I 
will not illustrate these remarks by examples from the disputed ter- 
ritory of politics or religion. There is a time for strife, and a time 
for peace and good humor, and my design is to confine my, remarks 
as much as possible, within the limited field of practical education. 

Even in the simplest and most practical parts of education, how 


6 


ADDRESS. 


far are our teachers generally from urging the student to anything 
like independence or originality. In the study of llhetoric^ for in- 
stance, where one would suppose^a man ought to act for himself, if 
any where, we are often advised, first by” the writers of our text 
books, and afterwards by our living instructors, to study models of 
style, instead of being urged to form a style of our own. Now, it 
would be just as reasonable^t8'*advise a youth to copy the thoughts 
of Others, as their style. The moral difference between the two 
thefts would be no greater than that between grand and petty lar- 
ceny. And there have been teachers of note who have not scrupled 
to give even such advice. Doddridge advises his young candidate^- 
for the pulpit, as if they were an assemblage of young Spartans, 
bidding them, while they make free use of the hints and thoughts of 
others, to be careful not to transcribe Aheir very words, unless be- 
tween honest quotation marks. There is not a more absiu’d idea 
than that a man must have one fixed, stereotyped style for every oc- 
casion, whether descanting on the virtues of a cheese, or the virtues 
of a Christian. Whereas, if we follow nature, and surely there can 
be. no better guide, the style of every man will vary, naturally 
with the subject, just as it does in conversation. But how can we 
expect any variety of style or thought, if youth are instructed to 
imitate and plagiarize, instead of following the bent of their own 
minds? If Carlyle had been told in College, as perhaps he was, to 
imitate Johnson, and had followed^the 'advice, there had been no 
Carlyle — had Macauley been told to copy Addison, there had been 
no Macauley. 

In the study of History, also, how’ necessary is this power and 
habit of independence? The student who does not accustom him- 
self to weigh historical evidence in his own balance, will find his 
vniiid in a chaos forever. «« Partiality,” says Sir Thomas Browne, 
in his usual quaint style, ^Miath much depraved history, wherein if 
the equity of the reader does not correct the iniquity of the writer, 
he 'will be much confounded with repugnancies, and often find in 
the same person Numa and Nero.” The more we read history 
without studying it, the more difficult it will be to satisfy ourselves 
the truth concerning the most important events. Probably the 


ADDRKSS. 


7 


majority of readers— for I cannot call them students of history — are 
to this day unsatisfied in their own minds, whether the Queen of 
Scots did or did not murder Darnley, whether the vision of Con- 
stantine was a pious fraud or a miracle, or, to descend still further, 
whether the sea serpent, who is by this time a historical personage, 
was or was not a pure creation of inventive genius. 

It is jiecessary, before giving credence to any historical narration, 
to learn what kind of spectacles the narrator uses — whether the 
concave lens of near-sighted bigotry, or the magnifying convex one 
of favoritism, or whether he stands behind the cobwebs of some 
Gothic- window pane of prejudice. In everything relating to Crom- 
well and the Puritans, the aristocratic goggles of Hume stain not 
only the paper on which he writes, but the documents from which 
he reads — while on the other hand the friends of Puritanism can see 
no fault in Cromwell, but are willing to confess him in all things, by 
eminence, the Puritan, the embodiment of their faith and practice — 
a specimen of ‘‘perfect perfection,” such as he himself never pre- 
tended to be. 

In studying History, we must remember that impartiality is nearly 
an impossibility. Partiality is a part of man’s depravity. The 
likings and dislikings of men control and pervert their judgmejit. 
The place of one’s birth, the temper and temperament, the politics 
and religion of a writer, are generally insuperable obstacles to im- 
partiality. It is rare that we can find in the world, a historian like 
our own countryman Sparks, who cannot be influenced by love, fear, 
or any interested motive, to deviate from the truth. Contemporaries 
are notorious for injustice, and hence it is inferred that no man ought 
to undertake to write a history of his own times. On the same 
principle we ought not to permit an eye-witness of a fact to testify 
in a court of justice. A disinterested contemporary, could he be 
found, would be the very best historian. It is not the time but the 
temper in which he liVed that makes a man a good or bad hist(^rian. 
When a hero, statesman, or author of our day is treated, as we 
think, unjustly, we endeavor to console ourselves and him with the 
common saying : “ Posterity will do him justice.” But how can we 
know this? Is not posterity influenced by the same nature, the 


8 


ADDRESS. 


same circumstances ? Is not Posterity as prejudiced a fellow by 
nature as his great grandfather was before him ? Has not Washing- 
ton, within a very few years, been stigmatized by a British Tory Re- 
viewer^ as a selfish and ambitious rebel ? And will it not be so 
down to the end of time or Toryism ? 

The world yet calls for independent historians and independent 
readers of history. There is room yet for the exercise of thought 
and genius in almost every study. It may be that in other branches 
of knowledge the world is now in as deep ignorance as it was of 
natural science in Bacon’s time, and the coronals of fame still hang 
suspended for the brow of him who has the mind to discover, and 
the courage to publish, some truth yet unknown, which is again to 
revolutionize the world. 

Let, then, your literary creed be — intellectual independence — ad- 
vocate the protection of domestic industry, and the cause of inter- 
nal improvement, but, above all, insist on a free mental soil — let the 
brotherhood of scholars oppose all further extension of slavery over 
a soil that God made to be free. Nor let your advocacy of this 
principle for yourself and others be mere talk — a word without a 
meaning. Some there are who prate freely of liberty of thought, 
who are too indolent ever to exercise such a liberty — others speak 
of it as a priceless boon, who would be as terrified as Pope Hilde- 
brand, at the apparition of a thought which varied, even in shadow, 
from the infallible decrees of the Councils. If you are an enemy to 
mental freedom, by all means, like an honest man, let the world 
know it, and be so far independent and respectable. But if, when 
you speak of mental freedom and profess to love it, you mean only 
a freedom, which like the clipped wings of an eagle, shall confine 
its possessor within the enclosure of your own paling, be gone, and 
forever after hold your peace ; for if there be anything hateful alike 
to God and man, it is that common hypocrisy which lives and dies 
canting" about its affection for what it never looked at, save — 

askance, with jealous leer malign.” 


Let a habit of independence be modified, however, by an eclectic 
or liberal spirit. 


ADDRESS* 


9 


A man may be go independent as to be one-sided. He may be, as 
we say of some fops, so straight as to be crooked. A liberal spirit 
is opposed to the practice of proving or pretending to prove one 
thing, and then resolutely bracing against all things else. Men can 
prove any thing very clearly to themselves, by only examining one 
side of it. Examining one side of a question produces a one-eyed 
credulity, rather than a clear sighted faith. Examining both sides 
produces at first doubt, and though doubt, when unrestrained by the 
love of God is dangerous, and though a state of doubt is a most 
wretched state of mind, yet to learn to doubt is a most necessary 
and difficult part of an education. 

A liberal spirit by no means prevents a man from having one study, 
one book or one system which he prefers to all others. It prevents 
him from believing that one book is all books, and one man all men. 
Truth is too large to be discovered all at once, or by any one man, 
be he the greatest that ever lived. It has not been discovered in 
one laboratory, in one study, by one algebraic formula, by once sit- 
ting under an apple tree, or by once bathing in a Grecian bath. In 
the discovery of truth all men are still entitled to take part. The 
republic of truth is a pure Democracy, in which every man has a 
vote, but no man a veto. Truth lies in a well, hut not altogether in 
one well ; but wherever it lies, men will find it purer and betterwhen 
drank from the rim of the old oaken bucket, drawn up by the labor 
of one’s own hand, than when it is doled out to them second handed 
in an author’s dipper. 

An excessive fondness for a particular study or science is apt to 
produce bigotry and narrowness of views. There are men in our 
day who have so exclusively devoted themselves to the good work 
of Biblical criticism, that they can see nothing but Hebrew and 
Greek points and paradigms in all the vast realms of creation. 
Their eye-sight is dimmed and distorted. They are afflicted with 
optical illusions. The very crust of the globe seems to them made 
up of Hebrew particles and iota subscripts. The late discoveries 
and demonstrations of geologists are rejected by them as abomina- 
ble heresies, because they are fancied to conflict with a particular 
twist in the terminus of a part of speech. When informed that -i 
live toad has been found imbedded in a rock, fifty feet below the 
2 


10 


ADDRESS. 


present surface of tlie earth, and they are asked to explain that 
phenouienon in accordance with the theory that this world was 
made exactly as it now appears in a single literal day, they have 
nothing to reply, except that when God made the earth, and that 
rock within it, he could just as easily have made it with a live toad, 
or even a rhinoceros, in the centre of it, as on its surface. 

On the other liand, geologists sometimes can see nothing except 
through geological lenses. They account for all manner of appear- 
ances, outside as well as inside of our globe, by their periods, 
epochs, successive creations, glaciers and convulsions. In these 
numerous mounds, some of which are in our own State, so symme- 
trical and artistic in their forms, which have been objects of curio- 
sity even to the wild Indian, and are now objects of veneration to 
the mere common-sense traveller, the geologist can see nothing but 
the effect of eddies, whirlpools, and deluges. The fact that similar 
mounds are found in tlie steppes or prairies of Tartary, and in many 
other countries — the fact that ancient poets and historians speak of 
similar mounds being built as tombs and temples — the fact that 
skeletons evidently of a different people from our Indians are some- 
times found in them — of a people, also, manifestly considerably 
versed in the arts of civilization, though less so than Europeans, as 
proved by the character of the relics found with them — the fact 
that defensive works of great extent and unknown origin are found 
frequently in connexion with such mounds — all these facts must go 
for nothing, because the geologist can find an occasional hill of some- 
what similar appearance, and can talk to you “ an hour and a half 
by Shrewsbury clock,” about tertiary strata, and argillaceous depo- 
sites, and granulations, and other unheard of sesquipedalian forma- 
tions,* 

The ambition of students should be to be masters of all knowledge, 
as far as possible, but the slave of none. They should strive to 

* That all of those eminences in the Western country which are called mounds by the 
common people are not artificial, may be readily admitted. The difference is generally 
distinguishable by their situation. We are happy to know that the Smithsonian Institute 
is about publishing an elaborate work upon American Archeology, written by two gen- 
tlemen who have spent many years in the study of Western Antiquities. This book can- 
not fail, nc think, to remove all doubts as to the character and origin of these Antiquities. 


ADDRESS. 


1 


turn even old errors to good account, as the early Christiai* took 
the old heathen temples, and modelled them into churches, devoted 
to the worship of the true God. The mind of him who servilely 
worships one master in philosophy or science becomes palsied — it 
totters, if it undertakes to walk alone. Thought with him is not 
thought — it is only the disembodied ghost of memory — a line shadow 
from the great shade. All his essays and conversations are filled 
with his master’s technicalities. His best things are or should be 
marked and numbered in the margin, like the artieles of a bill of 
lading, with the initials of the real owner, and references to tlie 
original manifest and invoice. He has been so long cribbed, ca- 
bined and confined, that he has come to imagine the little cell in 
which he walks, the whole universe, and the cobwebs which festoon 
its walls, seem to him the most gorgeous tapestry, and the sun- 
beams of truth which sometimes force their way in, are veiled witli 
the stifling dust, and seem struggling to be gone again, unwilling to 
intrude where their value is unesteemed. An old proverb warns us 
to beware of the man of one book, but, in the sense intended, it has 
neither reason nor fact to support it. Books are the talents on which 
the faithful servant doubles his wealth. The man of one book, like 
the unprofitable servant, hides his talent in the earth. How is tlie 
man of one book to learn the value or the worthlessness of that, but 
by comparison? Or what one book shall a man take, and who shall 
select it for him? Who but the man of many books has sufficient 
knowledge to be able to select one good one? What did the man 
of one book ever do in the world ? Chrysostom, we are told, was 
wont to sleep with the comedies of Aristophanes under his pillow; 
but had that been his only book, he would not have been known to 
us by surname, if by any name at all. Charles Dickens de- 
clares, and publicly calls on his wife to support his affirmation, that 
he always sleeps with one of Irving’s pleasant volumes under his 
pillow, and we may easily credit their double testimony. There is 
a man of one book, and like all such men, he will have his day, (if 
it has not passed already,) and will go down, not to the honored 
tomb of the Capulets, but to the obscure grave of the Bulwers and 
Marryats and Dickenses of every age. 

A truly liberal spirit, though sometimes compelled to innovate, 


ADDRESS. 


will be opposed to rash and hasty innovation. Truth is the same 
yesterday, to-day, and forever, though man is not so. Man changes 
—he improves ; the blind man receives sight — he discovers. The 
student should hunger and thirst after truth. But reading and think- 
ing teach men modesty — to doubt whether they are the people. It 
is not much learning, but one-sided learning that makes men mad — 
one-sided learning always produces mono-mania. Much learning 
always brings forth words of truth and soberness. The man who 
studies with an eclectic spirit will not rashly break through, but will 
rather wait, till the increasing power of truth and the growing 
weakness of the harness, compel him to walk out of the thills of de- 
caying notions. 

I have said enough, probably, concerning the spirit with which 
you should study, but I cannot close this part of my subject without 
adding — let your independence be suitably tempered with humility. 

Remember that you do not and cannot know everything ; do not 
too soon imagine yourself wiser than your teachers, or think your 
opinions more to be depended on than those of the sages of the older 
time. There have been many men who have spoken and written 
truth long ago, though, doubtless, many wiser and better than you 
have lived and died in ignorance of truths that are now universally 
understood. Reverence, then, those of every age who have been 
earnest seekers, whether they were able to find or not, and as the 
antiquary cherishes some old and worn out volume with veneration, 
so do you love the memory of the honest philosophers, historians and 
divines of former days. When we reflect that men of equal purity 
and intelligence have differed and still differ in opinion on important 
subjects, it should impress upon us such a lesson of the weakness of 
the human understanding, as to make us seek earnestly for better 
guidance than our own intellectual nature. It should make us 
prayerful and docile, and carry us in our search after knowledge, 
first of all to the fountain head. Every day. 

Like the sunflower, which turns to her God as he sets, 

The same look that she turned when he rose, 

we should commence the day with looking to Heaven, every mo- 
ment and hour keep our eyes on that glorious source of light, and 
let 1 le shades of night, when they fall upon us, still find us with our 
fao^ s towards God, still bent in homage before him. Thus shall we, 


ADDRESS. 


13 


like the sunflower, be still growing, rising constantly and visibly up- 
ward till the perfect day. 


Time will permit me to present only a few general and desultory 
thoughts upon the second proposed head of discussion, viz : the 
subjects which it will be profitable to study. 

While at College, the studies are generally prescribed, and the 
subjects are all so obviously useful, when rightly pursued, that no 
remarks of mine against them, even if I desired to imitate the 
modern fashionable grumbling, could have any influence. Of this 
be sure, no study is useless, and any study is better than no study. 
Your studies here are but the preparatory harnessing for the life- 
long struggle. Some of you may not at once perceive the exact 
logical connexion between the process of getting over the Asses 
Bridge,” and the process of getting your daily bread, but considera- 
ble practice at both will satisfy you that the connexion is closer than 
you imagined. Whatever you choose for a profession or occupa- 
tion, you will of course let the books relating to that subject receive 
hereafter your chief and earnest attention. But even while at Col- 
lege you have leisure hours — intercisiva tempora — and you might 
improve them by such reading as would guide you in your choice, 
or, at least, would store your mind with knowledge that is profita- 
ble for all things. 

Give all the time you can command, both now and hereafter, to a 
close and systematic study of History and Biography. This study 
will not only give you the general information you need, but will 
afford you examples and motives of action in all circumstances of 
life. It is true that experience in the world is a great help in sur- 
mounting its difficulties, and bearing its trials and vexations, but 
often we can draw that courage or that consolation from books, 
which can nowhere else be found. 

A good acquaintance with polite literature is necessary to the 
scholar, and becomes more and more necessary as society becomes 
more intelligent and refined. Learned men who are ignorant of 
polite literature are generally pedants, because they have no topics 
of conversation common to the mass, and pedantry is a fly in the 


14 


ADDRESS. 


mountains of books now offered to our choice, it is important to ac- 
quire a habit of. looking at books as a connoisseur of paintings does 
upon the products of the pencil. He can tell at a glance whether 
the work is by the hand of a master, and wastes no time in examin- 
ing daubs. It is true enough, as Bacon says in his Essay on Studies, 
thst some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some 
few to be chewed and digested.” But how to tell which of these 
operations is to be performed on any particular book, he does not 
undertake to inform us. But the age of a book is generally a fair 
criterion of its value. If a book has stood the test of half a cen- 
tury, it is at least worth tasting. If a century, it is worth swal- 
lowing — if more than that, it is generally worth chewing and digest- 
ing, and the more centuries that have rolled over its head without 
diminishing its popularity, the more certain it is to be worthy of a 
place among your household Gods. I say not that there is no good 
new book, but that the old is better.” One reason of this may be, 
that two or three centuries ago, men seem to have written books be- 
cause they had somewhat to say. In our days, they write be- 
cause they have nothing else to do. An ancient and anonymous 
gentleman and scholar, discourseth briefly, but pertinently upon this 
topic, on this wise : 

For though old writings apere to be rude, 

Yet notwithstanding they do include 

The pythe of a matter most fructuously. 

The literary world is growing too eflfeminate and finical. It thinks 
and talks more about fine binding, fine paper, and fine type than 
about the soul of the book. All is made for show, and nothing for 
use. Every book says, ‘Giands off,” as plainly as if so labeled on 
the back. A vellum cover in a modern drawing room would excite 
as much horror as a sheep-skin with the wool on. But to the genuine 
lover of books, the sight of an old clasped cover goes to the heart. 
What GliiiHes Lamb says of Thomson’s Seasons is truer of much 
older books — ‘‘ they look best a little torn and dog-eared.” Putting 
the old books into the modern foppish binding is putting old wine 
into new bottles. They seem desirous, like the ghost of Hamlet’s 
father,^ to burst their ceremonious cerements, and revisit the glimpses 
of th ' ^moon in their stout old armor.* 

'tural science, however, books of a month old will teach us 


ADDRES*. 


15 


nore in one month than books of a century old would teach us in a 
jentury. A knowledge of natural science is necessary to the literary 
nan of every profession. How often does the preacher or other 
)ublic speaker, whose studies have prevented him from keeping 
)ace with the progress of discovery, subject himself to criticism 
ind mortification, by undertaking to illustrate his theme from sup- 
)Osed facts, which modern science has proved to be falsehoods^ 

The young student needs a word of caution against certain kinds 
)f polite literature, falsely so called. This is an age of vile novels. 
Vvoid the ‘^yellow covered” trash, got up by the very scavengers 
d literature. Novels indeed, of the best kind, are generally to be 
hunned, unless you hate them. If you dislike novels, you should 
•ead some of the best of them, as a penance. Disliking novels in 
lot a general fault with the young, but where it exists, it proves a 
leplorable want of imagination, which perhaps nothing but novels 
;an improve. But if you are one of those who can sit up half or 
he whole night over a novel without sleepiness, avoid a novel as you 
vould a pestilence, if you wish not to groan in after life, as so many 
lave done before you, for the many precious hours which have been 
hus miserably thrown away, and cannot be recalled. You will not 
lave to mourn over habits of listless indolence of mind, and profit* 
ess reverie and castle-building, which have been fastened upon you 
)y such reading, and against which habits, in after life, you may 
struggle in vain. 

Let me not forget, in conclusion, to direct your special attention 
:;o a very old book, or rather a collection of very old books,” with 
vhich there is reason to fear some of you are but little acquainted* 
Take this volume for your principal teacher, and you will never 
vish the days of your pleasant pupilage to be ended. By its lessons 
you will grow in wisdom and moral stature, and in favor with God 
ind man. Infidels have struggled hard, by magnifying the difficul- 
ies of the Bible, to overthrow its authority, but its foundation was 

* They have dressed even old homespun John Bunyan in purple and fine linen, which 
lecomes him just as well as the rich night gown, and gold and pearl became the body ol' 
[Ihrystopher Sly, the transmognified tinker, and the religious and benevolent publishers 
magine they have conferred a great blessing upon the world, because they manage tole ‘ 
is have him and his full suit of tinsel at the low price of $4 00, when we can get Uie sou 
of him in a good stout body for 25 cents, and no thanks to them ! 


16 


• w^DDRESS. 

yoiL will grow iii wisdom and moral stature, an 
and man. Infidels have struggled hard, by magnifying the difficul- 
ties of the Bible, to overthrow its authority, but its foundation was 
laid and cemented by the hand that fashioned the everlasting hills. 
That there are difficulties in the Bible, it is not necessary to deny ; 
but no candid student will ever reject anything on account of ob- 
jections which do not overthrow or even touch the affirmative argu- 
ments in its favor. Considering its great antiquity, there is no book 
whose difficulties for the men of the present day, are so few, and 
whose unanswerable arguments and undeniable excellences are so 
many. The more we candidly study the Bible, the more plain does 
its truth appear — the smaller and fewer are its difficulties, and the 
lore precious are even its most awful mysteries. 

As when the eye first views some Andean chain 
Of shadowy rolling mountains based on air, 

Height upon height, aspiring to the last, 

Even to Heaven, in sunny snow sheen, up 
Stretching like angel’s pinions, nor can tell 
Which be the loftiest nor the lovelier — 

So feels the spirit, when it first receives 
The bright and mountainous mysteries of God, 

Containing Heaven, moving themselves toward us 
In their free greatness, as b^y ships at sea 
Come icebergs, pure and pointed as a star 
Afar off glittering, of invisible depth. 

And dissolving in the light above. Festvs. 

Grand and glowing as is this language of the greatest poet of our 
day, the spirit of the humblest and feeblest Christian can attest its 
truth. He has seen these mountainous mysteries, assuming, as it 
seemed, the very shape of Deity, and moving toward him, gorgeous, 
vast, sublime, beautiful — not fleeing like a repellent shadow from 
the attempted grasp, but freely coming on to meet the embrace of 
the longing soul — no longer awful and terrible, but as lovely as lofty, 
like the snow-clad hills in the sunny morning — and though that 
spirit might find no tongue to express its new-born feelings, yet from 
the depths of the contrite heart where God dwelleth, there came 
the voice of God, saying — though my paths are in the deep sea, 
yet all Tny paths are peace. He thut walketh therein shall find the 
rest for which flie human soul was made to long — rest from doubt — 
rest in t}ie darkest hours of gloom — rest in tlie valley of death’s shade 
■ — rest oh Jibe other side of Jordan, in the green pastures, and by the 
still watci’S rorevermore.” 



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